Chapter 3

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My nostrils flared and my breathing quickened. Before I knew it, I was dizzy and the heart monitor beside me was beeping wildly. I wasn't sure if I was angry or happy to see him, two very different emotions that I should be able to tell apart.

"No, no, no... Shh..." Patrick said and walked closer into the light, "It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you..."

I wanted to be strong, but at that moment, there wasn't enough energy to fight the tears building up in my eyes. He saw them too. They blurred my vision and my lip started quivering with it.

Patrick softened, slumping his shoulders down. He walked up to the side of the bed and lifted himself over it, wrapping his arms around me. My body trembled and shook. I've never been so weak in my life. He was practically holding me up.

As he got more comfortable, he turned his head and whispered in my ear, petting my hair softly, "I'm sorry... I'm so... so sorry."

I felt his body shake like mine and looked over to find his eyes shut tight and tears slipping from them. Seeing such a sweet and innocent man cry made mine worse. My heart yanked and a sob choked up in my throat. I balled his shirt into a fist and latched onto him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." he repeated multiple times, over and over again. He put everything into them and truly meant every single one, even though he was crying.

I held him tighter, for my sake and his. He squeezed me closer and harder. I felt a pain grow in my chest. It could've been from just sobbing for too long, but with Patrick putting his weight on it, it only hurt worse.

I took a sharp breath in and whimpered a little. He backed off quickly, as soon as he felt it. My body ached for him to hold me again, but I knew it wasn't good for me at all.

You hate him Emerald. He's your worst nightmare. He hit your car and you can only say it's on purpose. He's done all of this to you.

He wipes his eyes and sniffles, only to start crying again. I lose my attempt to hate him. There's no way I could do this while we're both like this. I hold my arms out again and he doesn't ask permission to come back into them.

I hold my arms around his neck and place my head on his shoulder. He held me loosely and carefully, as to not crush me again.

His shaky voice whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry..."

"Stop saying that..." my voice croaked weakly.

"I can't say anything else. Nothing I say will ever fix this and nothing I do will ever be able to repay what I did," he breathed out.

I closed my eyes to block out the flow of tears that were staining his shirt. I was ruining his clean, white shirt and blue bow tie.

"Hey, I haven't got your name yet..." he changed the subject.

"Emerald," I answered and had to re-catch my stuttering breath.

"That's beautiful. Emerald," he whispered and pulled back, looking at me with glittering green eyes.

I felt my body start to shut down and lost grip on him. He caught me just before my head hit the bed and climbed up, holding me in his lap. His face filled with worry and he scanned me for any signs of pain.

I wanted to smile and say everything was going to be okay. I wanted to sit up and hug him, promising that if he stayed with me, it would be enough. I wanted so badly to kiss his lips, but I can't.

My body slowly went numb, limb by limb. Patrick leaned over me and flicked a light on, fiddling with the chords connected to my body. I felt a cool drip of morphine and anesthesia kick in, relieving my pains almost instantly. My eyes still felt heavy and my breath steadied shallowly.

He looked down at me, panting and even pushing a smile. He stroked my hair out of my face and felt my forehead.

"You'll be okay, Emerald. I promise. You'll be okay," he said convincingly. I wasn't sure if he was trying to convince me or himself. If it was aimed at him, it wasn't working.

My eyes started to close and I felt a light tap on my cheek. Patrick's eyes were wild with fear and a flashing red light illuminated his face in the darkness of the room.

I think I was dying.

My hearing faded away, like the way you hear just before they pop on a plane ride. The numbness set in with the drugs trying to counteract with it. All I could see was Patrick frantically trying to help, but failingly.

Patrick's hand held the back of my head upright. His head turned to the window and his lips opened. He must be shouting for help. Tears started springing from his eyes again and his back arched in a scream.

I tried to lock my eyes on him. If I could just stay awake for a little while, maybe help was on the way. Maybe I can convince him that I'm okay.

He tried desperately to keep his eyes on me. I watched his chest move up and down, heaving breath by breath. His thin figure began to shake and quake again. He shouted again and a light came on in the hallway.

A team of nurses busted in with a doctor shortly behind. Patrick still kept his hold on me. They peeled him off of me and pulled him by his arms. He threw a fit in attempt to free himself. I tried to turn my head to see the commotion, but couldn't even move my neck.

He came back into my line of sight as three nurses were dragging him out the door and into the hall. His bloodshot eyes stayed on mine as long as they could until he was gone.

Only when he was gone, I allowed myself to completely shut down. I had used all the energy I had to stay awake for him. Now that he's gone, what's the point?

There was an echo of beeping and orders barked from the doctor before I lost conscious. I was convinced it would be the last thing I would ever hear.

~ Jenna

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